


still comparing my past to your future

by harpers_mirror (SapphireBryony)



Series: Blow Us All Away [5]
Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, kid fic (though the kids are barely present), reactions to space trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 02:31:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7826773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireBryony/pseuds/harpers_mirror
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Eiffel turned to the back of the portfolio, finding there the paper Minkowski had described. His hands shaking, he opened it. Across the top of the large sheet were printed the words “When I grow up, I want to be...”</i>
</p><p>or,</p><p>The kids might be alright, but the grown-ups sure aren't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	still comparing my past to your future

Doug was sprawled out on the couch with Margot and Morgan, reading aloud from the Beverly Cleary book they’d started earlier in the week when he heard the door from the garage open. Glancing at the clock in surprise, he saw it was only 7:30.

“Minkowski?” he called. “Is that you?” 

Receiving no answer, he frowned, handing the book off to the little girl at his side.

“Margot? Keep our place, will ya? I’m gonna go check the door.” 

Making his way into the kitchen, he found Renée standing there, door ajar, keys still clutched in one hand and a blank look in her eyes that unnerved him. Her face was dead pale, lips pursed in a firm line.

“Minnnnkowski? You okay there?” 

Her eyes finally focused on him and she seemed startled to find him there. With careful deliberate motions, she closed the door, placed her keys on the counter, and still clutching a brightly-colored folder, walked sightlessly past him, heading for the stairs.

Confused and with a pit of dread settling into his stomach, Doug stood there frozen for a moment. Then, taking a deep breath to try and make his voice sound normal, he called back into the den.

“Margot?”

“Yeah?”

His voice had sounded remarkably calm so he chanced sticking his head around the door frame. “Can you take Morgan upstairs and read them a story? Maybe one of the ones you were practicing for school? Quietly, please, don’t wanna wake up the twins. And get some pj’s on the both of you? Your mom or I will be around to tuck you in later, deal?” 

Margot seemed to sense something unusual was going on but didn’t ask any questions. “Sure, Uncle Doug. We can do that. Right Morgan?”

Morgan nodded and the two climbed down off the couch and headed out of the room. Margot handed him their forgotten book as she went. 

Once the kids were out of sight, Doug sagged against the door frame, book in hand. He needed to remember to give them obscene amounts of candy sometime soon. Clutching the book like a life preserver, he took another deep breath and headed upstairs.

The door to the master bedroom was ajar when he reached the second floor landing, though the lights were off. Nudging it open with a quiet knock, Doug heard a hoarse voice from inside the darkened room respond, “Go away, Eiffel.”

His heart pounding, he pushed the door open slightly wide. “No way, Minkowski.” Doug slipped into the room and carefully shut the door behind himself. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he could just make out Renée’s silhouette sitting hunched in the middle of the bed. Perching on the edge of the mattress, he waited a moment to see if she’d say anything first. When she didn’t, he sighed. 

“What is going on, Renée? Is Dom okay? Are you? Did something happen at the school tonight? Did -”

She cut him off with a half-hysterical laugh. “Oh no, Doug, everything went great at the school tonight. Wonderful. Fantastic. Margot’s teacher was so proud of her work. Gave me this.” Minkowski thrust the folder at Doug, smacking him in the chest as she did so. 

_“Oof,_ what the -” It was useless to try and examine the contents in the dark. Not wanting to fuss with the lights, Doug fished his phone out of his pocket and clicked on the flashlight app, setting aside the book that he’d been holding. Opening the folder, he flipped through progress reports, standardized test result sheets, writing samples, drawings. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary to his admittedly inexperienced eye.

“Minkowski, I don’t -”

“Keep going,” came the flat response from beside him. “The last sheet. White paper, folded in half. You’ll understand when you see it.”

Doug shined the light on her for a moment and she flinched. “Fuck that’s bright, Eiffel! Would you just - you wanted to know so would you just look?” Renée fell back against the pillows with a sigh that sounded more like a sob.

Eiffel turned to the back of the portfolio, finding there the paper Minkowski had just described. His hands shaking, he opened it. Across the top of the large sheet, printed in that uniformly perfect handwriting common to all elementary teachers were the words “When I grow up, I want to be...” Below that was a space for a drawing, followed by lines for a written caption. 

Margot had colored the top space nearly entirely with black crayon, carefully leaving little white circles here and there. In the middle was a red-headed figure in a silver-crayon spacesuit, complete with fishbowl helmet. A triangular rocket ship floated in the background, alongside a trio of colorful planets.

 _“Oh...”_ Doug breathed. He understood Minkowski’s scary blank face now, felt her fear as acutely as a punch to the gut. Steeling himself, he read the large, childish printing below the picture.

“An astronaut,” it said, "like Mommy (and Uncle Doug). I will go to space and find aliens and cool rocks.”

In another universe, it would have been funny. In another universe, they would have laughed over Margot’s cheerfully clueless idea of what astronauts actually did, at the juxtaposition of aliens and cool rocks, at the listing of “and Uncle Doug” as an apparent afterthought.

In _this_ universe however, Doug refolded the paper with fingers that had gone numb. He carefully placed it back into the folder, closed it, and set the folder on the bedside table. Then, clicking the light off on his phone, he flopped back on the bed to lay beside Renée. She curled against him and he wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders, her shaky, uneven breathing ghosting against his neck as he buried his face in her hair.

They lay there huddled together in the darkness together for a long time.

Then - “Eiffel?” Minkowski whispered, voice still choked with unshed tears. “What are we going to do?”

“I...” His voice trailed off. “I don’t know, boss. But we’ll figure something out, okay?”

Logically, they both knew that by next month, Margot would have moved on to wanting to be a ballerina or a chef or a scuba diver or something equally adventurous and absurd. But in that moment, they were buried under the weight of the past and the suffocating promise of the future, in the memories of fear and desperation and near-death and the image of tiny, brave, sweetly oblivious Margot being lost to that crushing darkness while they stood by, unable to save her.

Eiffel felt tears roll silently down his cheeks, felt Renée’s own tears wetting his shirt, and felt more helpless than he had since space. He clung to her in the darkness and tried to lend her a strength he did not feel.

“We’ll figure something out,” he murmured again, lips brushing her hair as he stared unseeing into the looming shadows that surrounded them. “We always do.”


End file.
